


The Doctor Is In

by jaythenerdkid



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythenerdkid/pseuds/jaythenerdkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt at <strong>tmpfanficprompts</strong>: <em>smutty fic inspired by the line "I'd prefer it if you call me Dr. Castellano" in DCIMG, but with established Danny/Mindy.</em></p><p>I took it and ran with it and ended up with Mindy and Danny's first time having sex in the office. It's just as messy as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor Is In

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure I really answered the prompt, but I tried. Enjoy, I hope!

It's a slow day, which makes Danny antsy. He's not the kind of guy who can sit around doing nothing, and before long he's itching to move, to go for a run, to scream out the window, to do  _something_ . Filled with restless energy, he eventually sits down before the keyboard he still keeps in his office, but the tension he's feeling makes his movements jerky and graceless and he gives up, swearing, four phrases into "Piano Man", though not before angrily banging the keys a few times. He knows he's being childish, but he doesn't care. If something doesn't happen to distract him in the next ten seconds, he swears to God he's going to - 

"Babe?"

He spins around, flushed with embarrassment at being caught out acting like this. Mindy is standing at the door, cheerful in spring florals, looking at him with concern wrinkling her brow. Danny hadn't heard the door open, intent on his poor fingering as he'd been, and has no idea how long she's been standing there, but she looks like she saw the angry key-banging, at the very least.

"Hey," he croaks, a little abashed. "I was just..." he gestures at the keyboard half-heartedly.

Mindy raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, I heard," she says drily, walking in and closing the door behind her. "Poor piano must've really offended you, the way you were beating the crap out of it like that. Did it insult your mom or something?"

Mindy Lahiri, the woman who keeps a chocolate fountain on her desk, is lecturing  _him_ on maturity? Girlfriend or not, that is  _not_ going to fly. He jumps up, accidentally knocking the piano stool over, curses, bends over to pick it up, almost trips over one of the legs, then gives the thing a savage kick before righting it, shooting the battered stool a glare as though it's somehow complicit in his predicament. "Coming from the woman who once made the guy at the hotdog stand down the road cry because he forgot the mustard, that's a little rich," he retorts, albeit a little belatedly.

"That was  _one time_ , Mr 'I Scared the Barista and am Now Banned From Starbucks'!" Mindy exclaims, her voice rising in pitch.

"He got my order wrong!" Danny protests, gesticulating. He doesn't even notice his Staten accent getting thicker as he strides forward until he and Mindy are barely a foot from each other. "Skim milk? What am I, a teenage girl? Who even  _drinks_ that stuff?"

"Probably not that barista, since you screamed at him for so long I'm pretty sure you gave him  _post-traumatic stress disorder_ , you drama queen!" Mindy snaps, poking Danny forcefully in the chest with one perfectly gel-manicured fingertip.

"I'm a drama queen? Are you listening to yourself right now?  _I'm_ a drama queen? You cry at advertisements with cute babies in them!"

"Yes, Danny, because I am a  _human_ with  _feelings_!" Mindy yells, and Danny decides he can't take any more of this right now, so he yanks her face roughly towards his and kisses her.

She responds with a savage ferocity of her own, tongue forcing his mouth open. She tastes like the cinnamon pretzel she had for breakfast and faintly of chocolate (that stupid fountain in her stupid office, probably). Danny grabs a fistful of her hair with one hand and her ass with the other, spinning Mindy around and pushing her back until she's up against his desk, random items falling to the floor as she's pushed onto its surface. She moans hungrily against his mouth and yanks him by the shirt collar until he's pressed right up against her and can feel the soft mass of her breasts against his chest.

Something stirs in him - the restlessness from before, he thinks - and he pulls away suddenly, striding to the door and locking it, then coming back to her, stripping off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans as he does so. Mindy's mouth forms a little 'o' of surprise as he kisses her roughly again, biting her lower lip in a way that causes her to make a keening little cry that he swallows with more kisses. She's unbuttoning his shirt now, which Danny decides is just one too many steps for what he has in mind, so he pushes her hands down to his jeans instead, where she fumbles to pull his jeans down until they're around his knees and his erection is clearly visible against the dark blue cotton of his boxers. Mindy palms him roughly and he growls deep in his throat and shoves up the hem of her floral sundress in response, grasping her thighs tightly enough to bruise as he pulls her towards him so he can grind against her. It feels good but not good enough, and soon Danny is shucking his boxers and pushing Mindy's dress up the rest of the way to reveal pastel pink panties, already damp with desire. Too impatient to take them off, Danny just pushes them aside, and then he's positioning the head of his cock against Mindy's entrance and she moans against his lips again.

"Danny,  _fuck_ ," she says, and he pulls her head back roughly by the hair, kissing and biting down her neck, not caring whether or not he'll leave marks.

"We're at work," he growls against the tight skin over her clavicle, "So I'd really prefer it if you called me Doctor Castellano." He punctuates it with a particularly rough bite right over the spot he knows she likes and feels a little rush of desire when Mindy gasps in response.

"Fuck you," she says breathlessly. "You arrogant fucking - " but she doesn't finish the sentence because that's when he pushes into her, thrusting hard and deep until all of him is buried in her.

"God, Danny, fuck," Mindy moans, and he bites down again, pulling out and thrusting hard again as he does. At this angle, with Mindy sitting on his desk, her legs spread wide to accommodate him, everything feels tighter, a feeling exacerbated when the walls of Mindy's pussy involuntarily clinch down around him.

" _Doctor_ ," he says between clenched teeth, grabbing her by the ass and squeezing hard to emphasise the point. Mindy is so fucking wet and he knows they're going to make a mess all over his desk but he is long past caring, the tension in him desperate for release.

Mindy gasps again in that way she has, high and breathless and so fucking sexy. "Shut up and fuck me, then,  _Doctor_ ," she quips, looking him in the eye like it's a challenge. He growls and kisses her again, one hand at the nape of her neck and the other around her ass, thrusting slow and hard and deep and enjoying the way Mindy cries out into his mouth every time his pelvis rubs against the swollen head of her clit. She has her legs wrapped around his waist now and is squeezing for all she's worth, her own hands roaming over his body - one slipping under his shirt and digging half-moon marks into his back with her fingernails, one pulling his hair. She pulls her lips away from his to bury her escalating cries against his shoulder, smearing lipstick against the dark fabric of his button-down, before kissing her way back up his neck and jawline. He retaliates by biting at her earlobe, which only makes her cry out again, which makes him want to fuck her harder in turn, until they're kissing frantically and her hips are bucking against his in time to his thrusts and they're both gasping and moaning incoherent things, fragments of threats and promises and entreaties, and Danny knows he's very close to losing control entirely.

Mindy loses control first, her orgasm making her scream as she rides him. Danny has a sudden thought, as he muffles her screams with a kiss:  _we should not be doing this_. The knowledge that this is almost certainly wrong, combined with the way she's arching against him as wave after wave of pleasure hits her, brings him to climax and he comes with a strangled moan, biting Mindy's lower lip until he thinks he can taste blood, slick and coppery against the sweet stickiness of her lipstick. He shudders against her, reaching out to steady himself against the desk as he comes in her with jerking, uncoordinated thrusts, his breathing harsh and ragged, skin shining with perspiration. He licks a trail along Mindy's bottom lip where he bit her, savouring the taste of her. Mindy is panting, arms locked around his neck as though she's holding on for dear life.

Danny pulls back slightly until he can look at her - pupils dilated, lips swollen, skin flushed, the racing throb of her carotid pulse at her neck, her dark hair a tangled mess framing her face. The light filtering in through the window behind Mindy is like a halo, warming her deep brown skin, already shining with sweat just like his. Her dress is completely askew and her lipstick is smeared and the sight of her like this - completely undone, completely undone _by him_ \- is so perfect that the last of the tension in him flows out, the little knot he's been carrying all day untangling until he feels every muscle in his body relax.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Mindy jokes, pulling him back to her for a quick, almost chaste kiss.

"Maybe I will," Danny murmurs against her lips, smirking, and she swats him away with a smile of her own and a comment about him being a pervert. He pulls out of her gently and starts fixing his clothes as she grabs a tissue from the box on his desk and starts to clean herself up. "You ruined this shirt, you know," he adds, rubbing half-heartedly at the lipstick stain Mindy left. "I still have patients to see, what are they gonna think?"

"That your smokin' hot, super-smart doctor girlfriend is so irresistible that you couldn't restrain yourself and had to ravish her on your desk in the middle of the day, in full hearing of the rest of the practice?" Mindy suggests with an impish grin. "You'd better hope Morgan wasn't out there with a recorder or something, we were pretty loud."

Danny should be upset about that, but the sight of his girlfriend - his smokin' hot, super-smart doctor girlfriend - sliding nimbly off his desk and rearranging her clothes, looking at him with so much love in her warm brown eyes, is enough to dissipate the beginnings of any anger. "I'd be more worried about Peter installing cameras in here, he's been threatening to do it ever since we went public," he says, reaching over to help wipe the smeared lipstick off Mindy's face. "Here, let me," he tells her, grabbing a tissue of his own and cleaning her up. She does the same to him and they can't help but laugh a little at that, her light giggle mingling with his deeper chuckle in a way that he realises has become such a part of his life that he doesn't know what he ever did without it.

He doesn't know what he ever did without a lot of things. He hopes he'll never have to experience that again.

"Penny for your thoughts, babe?" Mindy says lightly, depositing the used tissues in the trash can under Danny's desk and then reaching up to straighten his collar. "I think I have a spare shirt of yours in my office closet, you know. You wear identical shirts to work every day, nobody's gonna notice if you switch," she adds, grinning as he opens his mouth to protest.

Jesus Christ, but she's beautiful. (Danny sends up a quick prayer asking the Lord to forgive him for using His name in vain, but somehow, he thinks the big guy probably won't mind too much anyhow.) "I was just thinking that I'm lucky to have you," he says to Mindy, who is fixing her hair back into some semblance of order with a brisk efficiency that suggests they fuck on his desk all the time. (Maybe they should fuck on his desk all the time. It suddenly doesn't seem like such a bad idea.)

Mindy looks up at him, a little astonished, then beams, her entire face lighting up. "For that," she says, tapping him on the chest, "you have earned the right to choose what we watch tonight."

Danny perks up. "There's going to be a history of modern architecture on PBS that I thought I'd have to DVR," he says excitedly, and Mindy rolls her eyes.

"You are such an old man," she quips as she walks to the door. "How do I put up with you?"

"The same way I put up with you," Danny replies. "The sex is really,  _really_ fantastic."

Mindy laughs again at that, shaking her head. "Cocky asshole," she says. "I'm gonna go grab you that shirt, you can't go into your next appointment looking like some sex-crazed perv." She opens the door and steps out, then turns in the doorway as she's about to leave. "By the way," she says, "what was bothering you when I came in?"

Danny looks at her standing there - his Min, bright and loud and so, so fucking perfect in absolutely every single way, even the ways that drive him insane.

"It was nothing," he says, smiling to reassure her. "I'm fine now, I promise."

"Good," Mindy says, nodding in satisfaction that the matter is settled. "I'll be right back. Try not to torture that poor keyboard any more while I'm gone, okay?"

Before Danny can retort, she's gone. He can hear her humming happily as she walks through the practice foyer, reassuring Betsy that yes, Doctor Castellano is fine, he just spilled mustard on his shirt because he never learned how to eat hot dogs properly. (He'll get her for that later, he thinks with a grin.) The tension that's been plaguing him all day is gone completely, replaced with a sense of something he almost thinks might be contentment.

Turns out, Mindy Lahiri is a really great doctor.


End file.
